Will, Dear?
by thegirlhidden
Summary: Grelliam fluff that turns into a bit a Grell's backstory. When Grell pushes William too far, he snaps. How can he handle Grell's emotions? He's never been particularly good at that, and everyone has a dark side...and a past. A few @%#*% 'd out swear words and a description of Grell looking sexy ;) But clean.


**He Smelled Like Rain**

**Will:**

"_Oh Will dear!" _I winced. I had about .5 seconds before Grell Sutcliffe burst through my office door and glomped me on top of all my neatly organized paperwork. Sure enough, a meteorite of scarlet hair flew into my office, arms open. I sidestepped him, and Grell crashed into the metal wall of my pristine office. I had to admit, that must have hurt. I hoped he hadn't damaged himself too bad. The tremor sent from his petite body knocked a row of files I had just organized onto the floor. I held my face in my hands. Every. Time.

"Grell, are you alright?" he sat dazed dazed on the floor, then lit up at the sound of my voice.

"Of course, I would say that was a perfect landing, wouldn't you, dearest?"

"Don't call me that. How many times must I tell you our relationship is strictly business? Plus, you know I'm not... that way." I felt like I might vomit every time I said that. I had never been with a woman, really, and with a man, there was only that one time...I shook the thought out of my mind. Not now, William. I realized I was blushing. Sh*t.

Grell slowly stood up, making sure to give me a show on the way. He tried so hard, I felt sorry for himsometimes . He sat on the corner of my desk, his long legs crossed . He was wearing shorts so short, they barely classified as shorts, more leather underwear. His red boots reached up to his thighs, and matched his lacey corset. I was mortified. Why did he insist on wearing such things in the office?! He smirked and pulled back his red coat more. Sheesh, he must have thought I was staring at him. I could tell that my face was as red as his hair. But whether that was rage, embarrassment, or _both,_ was unclear.

"Don't you have work to do, Mr. Sutcliffe?" referring to him this way seemed out of place, awkward. He grinned and stood up. Unbearably close to me, I might add.

"Why, I have the day off. And according to the work calendar, so do you, my dearest ." His hair tickled my sides. I brushed it off with the hand he _wasn't_ clutching onto with all his strength. I struggled to stay composed. I was perspiring uncontrollably. I yanked away and walked across the room as a casually as possible, but I ended up skittering away like a terrified animal. He laughed, and it was sweet and clear, not a snicker.

"Oh Will, you never cease to amuse me. What do you say we take the day off of work together? Please? We can go for a walk in the park, we can go for a boat ride-"

"Enough!" I yelled, a little louder than I had to." I'm not going anywhere with you! I'm tired of you barging in, messing everything up and HUMILIATING ME IN FRONT OF-..." I looked around and remembered I was the only one at the office.

The look on his face broke my heart in two. The sad gleam in his eyes, the hunched shoulders that used to be so confident. He went from looking like a male model to a child who had been scolded by his father. I felt sick.

"Grell, I-" I faltered as he started crying. I was shocked. I'd never seen him cry. Grell seemed so bulletproof; this was unspeakable for him. His makeup he had obviously worked so hard on dribbled down his cheeks as he slumped on the ground. I wasn't good with emotions. I never had been. In fact, the sight of someone crying always panicked me a little because I didn't know what to do for them. Not that it usually mattered, they were about to die. But here was Grell, a living, breathing person at my feet. And, thank god, he was here to stay.

I crouched down and his eyes met mine. When he attempted to blink tears away, a false eyelash fell halfway down his pale face and remained there on his cheek as he cried, his chest heaving. My heart hurt, and my stomach felt queasy, and my brain, which usually did all the work, for once, was silent. I kneeled down beside him and before I could stop myself, I held him in my arms. He tensed up and for a moment, stopped crying. I was halfway worried he was about to throw me across the room. But he didn't he didn't. And he held back.

And it was different. It wasn't one-sided, or perverted, or at all like when he would grab me in a giant hug. It was soft and it was stupid and it was nice. Slowly but surely, he stopped crying and looked at me again and smiled. I wiped the lash off his cheek and he blushed.

"Grell. You don't need this. You don't need any of this. You don't need that makeup. You don't need to dress up. And you sure as hell don't need an $$hole like me making you feel like this." I looked him in his green eyes. They looked like a doe's eyes looking down the barrel of a gun.

"You.

Are.

Perfect."

**Grell:**

I couldn't stop myself from shaking. I started crying again. William. He was so close, I could feel his breath on my cheek. He smelled like cologne and shaving cream, but there was something else. The smell of rain. He smelled like rain.

And here he was, confessing he thought I was perfect. I've heard it before, those words. From my mother. When I was young at christmastime. I had wished for nothing more than a beautiful christmas dress, which my father would never let me have. But my mother had gone out of her way to buy me the most beautiful dress she could find. It was red silk with ruffles and white lace, and when I opened it up on Christmas morning, I was the happiest little boy alive. I ran right into my bedroom to try it on. I was so proud. Until I walked back out into the study where we were opening our presents.

"- A BOY, YOU STUPID BI-" I froze and so did my father. He was on top of my mother, his fist in the air. He had obviously struck her a few times before. I stood there in the door frame. My six year-old self was so confused. Why was daddy hurting mother?! Didn't he love her? I ran back into my room. I knew I'd seen something I shouldn't have. I hid under my covers. Daddy could hurt me there. I was safe.

Later on, my mother woke me up. She sat on the corner of my bed.

"Stand up, honey. Let me see how you look." I rubbed my eyes and got out from under my covers. I fluffed the tulle back up, and smoothed out the lace. It had been rumpled; I tended to toss and turn in my sleep. And cry. I walked to the mirror. I couldn't help but smile. I'd grown out my scarlett hair, and now it reached my shoulders. I twirled. My mother beamed through her tears. I ran up and hugged her.

"I love you, mother." I looked at her bruised face. "What made daddy get mad? Is there something wrong with me?"

"Of course not. I love you too, Grell. You are perfect. Don't forget." She pulled me closer.

She smelled like rain.

I pulled back and stared into his eyes. We both must have looked the same-scared. Confused. Unaware what was happening except for the fact that we never wanted it to end. I knew what I wanted, _needed_ to do in that moment, even if I was putting the best thing that's ever happened to me on the line.

I learned forward.

Closed my eyes.

And kissed Will gently on the mouth.

And he kissed me back.

And he smelled like rain.

Just some Grelliam fluff that turned into Grell's backstory. I didn't mean for that to happen; I made it up as I went along. I think I'm going to use the same text and write Grell's backstory.

Grell and William are my favorite OTP right now!

Sorry if Will seems completely out of character, I noticed it before even finished the

first paragraph. I _tried_ to avoid it, but for the sake of the story, he's a little less cold. :3 Plus, this seems to be in the current time. Oh well. I'm taking creative license XD


End file.
